


Sunburnt

by orphan_account



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 20:13:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which we learn how Andrea got her hat, Daryl is more than a little distracted, and Glenn knows everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunburnt

Daryl's oiling up his crossbow, enjoying the feel of the afternoon sun beating against his bare back, sweat trickling slowly down his neck when  _she_ walks past. _Maybe_ , he thinks, walk  _is the wrong word_. More like a sashay, or a strut. She moves, predominantly led by her hips, making his eyes stick where he doesn't want them to- her legs (good and strong), her shiny hair, her ass.

Goddamned Blondie.

He's sitting next to the water of their lake, amongst the green grass. The combination of icy blue and green reminds him of her eyes- everything reminds him of her, these days. The smell of salt, the taste of smoked fish (not that he's tasted her, although he'd like to). 

She sends a glance in his direction like she always does, making something strum low in his abdomen, and he notices she's wearing that stripy shirt, the one he likes. The one with the neckline that dips just below her collarbones (God knows he's spent many a night picturing what it would be like to trail his fingers over them, then lower) and hangs off her body in just the right way. 

She meets his gaze, and her (stupid) perfect lips quirk up in a smile that's equal parts sex and trouble. A low huff escapes his mouth as the heat in his abdomen coils tighter, and he slowly stands to... to what? _Whatcha gonna do, Dixon?_ He asks himself.  _Push her up against a rock, kiss her till you're dizzy then get shot for your trouble?_ The idea makes him shiver. It's then that he notices the bright red sunburn that travels across the bridge of her nose, down to her chest. It's splayed across her skin like a blush, and he can't help but imagine exactly _how low_ it goes. And how exactly she got it there.

"See something you like, Dixon?" she calls, her husky voice ringing out across the clearing they stand in.

He splutters out the negative, gathers up his shit, and high-tails it out of there like a little girl. Her laugh follows him all the way back to camp.

***

Over the next couple days, that  _damned_ sunburn is all he can think about. Andrea, Andrea, Andrea. Her name, her voice, running through his head like one of theme carousel tunes, driving him crazy. She's in his dreams, dancing through his consciousness with stripy shirts and sunburnt skin.

It seems like she's doing everything she can to show it off, too- wearing that shirt till other Blondie has to take it by force (he wishes he was there for that, then wonders when he became a pervert), tieing her hair back, running one hand along her collarbones. It's torture, that's what it is, and he lies awake in his tent at night, listening to Merle snoring, thinking about her.

He's caught himself staring at her more often than not, and when Shane has to wave his meaty paw in front of his face a couple times to get his attention, Daryl decides it's time something was done about it.

***

Short Round (or Glenn, as Daryl sometimes catches himself thinking) stares at him, eyes wide when he leaps back into the truck and yells at him to drive.

Glenn floors it, and they speed out of the Walker-infested hole quicker than you could say 'split'. 

When they get out to the open road, Chinatown slows up a little, and says "What the  _hell,_ Dixon?", all sharp-like.

"What the hell _what_ , boy?" Daryl shoots back, carefully placing his prize on his lap, making sure not to squash it.

"You went back into that store- there had to be, what? Fifty Walkers in there?" _  
_

"What's your point, Korea?"

" _For a hat._ A girl's hat, too. Who's it for?"

"No-one."

Korea's face suddenly splits into a wide grin. "It's for Andrea, isn't it?"

"Dunno what you're talkin' 'bout, boy."

"It is! You have a  _crush-_ "

"Shut up or I'll  _make_ you."

The kid keeps quiet, but the grin doesn't fade. Daryl pats the straw cowboy hat.

***

"Here." he tosses the hat to her, and Andrea catches it before it hits her in the chest.

"What's it for?" she puts it on, and he groans inwardly at the sight. Of course it looks perfect.

"You get sunburnt easily, Blondie. Don't have doctors no more, can't have you gettin' none of that cancer, now." he says gruffly, and she smiles widely at him.

"Why, Daryl, I didn't know you cared!" she says, mock-Southern Belle.

"Just thank me and get it over with."

Andrea steps forward, till she's only a hair's-breadth away, and tilts up her chin. "Thank you," she whispers, and presses a little kiss to his jaw.

She's gone before he can pull her closer.

Later, when they're eating dinner, Glenn smirks at him and says, "Lookin' kinda red there, Dixon. Maybe you should start wearing a hat."

"Shut the hell up, Short Round."


End file.
